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Friday, 27 May 2011

Marche des Salopes

Arghhh I am so frustrated. All the lovely little boutiques near me are having their sales, but not just like a normal sale where they put up signs in the window and mark down a few shit dresses- the streets are full of tables filled with clothes and it all looks really cheap, even the designer stuff. They are such good sales that the mum came home early from work and said I could leave two hours early so I could look at the sales before it all goes tomorrow. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I have no money. I have about five euros.

This is so unfair. I am all fizzing and anxious with Sales Fever, thinking that somewhere out there is the perfect item of clothing for me, reduced from 200 euros to 20, in my size... and I can't buy it. I hate this feeling. I HATE it when the sales are on and you feel like you are missing out on the bargain of a lifetime, but it's worse because I look at these shop windows every day and they always have really nice things in and they are all in the sale and I caaaaaan't buy anything.

I am trying to think calming, non-materialistic thoughts. There is more to life than clothes isn't there? Last weekend I went on a protest, to prove to myself that I am Deep and Intelligent. It was the Paris version of Slutwalk, the movement that started in Toronto a few months ago, after a policeman went into a school and told girls not to dress like sluts if they don't want to get raped. (I refer back to my 'Vent' post where I got a bit angry and asked why policemen don't go into schools and tell boys not to rape people instead.)

I found out through Facebook that Paris was having its very own Slutwalk- 'Marche des Salopes' in French- and I decided I had to go, seeing as it's something I feel strongly about. I don't really have any political views, apart from 'refugees = good' and 'rape = bad', but I have always thought that one day I would explode out of my shallow shell and become an Activist, petrol bombing members of the British National Party on the street, not buying Starbucks etc.

So I thought Marche des Salopes could be my chance. I dragged Kayt and Amy along with me to Place de Bastille where it was supposed to be starting. Unfortunately there was only five people there. Half an hour later, there were slightly more people there but still only about 200. I can't decide if it just wasn't very well publicised or whether French people just think people who dress like sluts deserve to be raped. We thought it was pretty funny that the girls who had come dressed as 'sluts' were wearing tights and long-sleeved dresses, I'm so glad we didn't come in the English girls' version of what 'sluts' wear...

Anyway, my right to wear what I want and get as drunk as I want and NOT get raped is one of the only political/social issues I feel strongly about, and yet I still ducked out of the protest an hour early to go and get falafel. I'm disappointed in myself, but at least now I can stop pretending to care about things and just be honest- I want nice food and I want nice clothes and that is all.

I don't know why I started talking about this, I suppose I am trying to distract myself from all those FUCKING SALES that are going on right outside my door. Apparently tomorrow it is going to be even better, and all the rich people in the area set up little stalls and sell all their last season designer clothes for ridiculously low prices, because they don't need the money.

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

(By the way, the pink sign says 'In skirt or in burka, my body is my right' and the yellow sign says 'Don't tell women how to dress, tell men not to rape'.)